Dear Harry
by Princess Evie
Summary: The summer before fifth year Ron and Hermione struggle to write to Harry. One shot.


Important Legal Statement- J.K. Rowling created the Harry Potter Universe, everything, and everyone in it. I own nothing. Do not sue me.

This is my first fic. So...deep breaths...

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The line between love and friendship is drawn on pavement in chalk. And then it rains.

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**Dear Harry…**

"We did say we'd finish this tonight."

Writing to Harry was proving to be a daunting task. Far more difficult than the daily chores they had been set around 12 Grimmauld Place. It was like having certain, crucial words eliminated from your vocabulary at the one time that you needed them most. For the past two nights Ron and Hermione had been wordlessly delaying the duty of writing to Harry simply because it was impossible. There was so much they wanted to say and so much they knew Harry would want to know, but there was nothing that could be said.

"Alright Hermione. You write."

Ron and Hermione sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. It was late, nearly midnight, and so far not a single word lay on the parchment. They new Harry must be furious at their lack of communication and yet they were powerless to alter the situation. Hermione pulled the parchment towards her body, dipped the quill into her inkpot, and paused with her hand suspended above the parchment.

"I can't believe we can't do this. Harry is our best friend. We should be able to…" Hermione's speech trailed off.

"Lie to him about what we've been up to?" Ron finished.

They were both silent for a moment. It was true. They couldn't tell Harry about their daily activities. Perhaps it wasn't fully lying, but there would be little truth in Ron and Hermione's letters.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"You don't suppose Harry will be angry with us when we do see him?" Ron asked tentatively.

Hermione sighed and Ron felt as if he already knew the answer. "Of course he will be. I expect he's feeling as if we've abandoned him. He's all alone with his Aunt and Uncle while we're here. Together."

"I'd be in a right state if it were me." Ron added.

"Me too," said Hermione. "I just hope that he'll be able to forgive us. After all, we are doing the best we can."

They both glanced down at the untouched parchment between them.

"Tomorrow night, then?" Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Well. We know we're in trouble the day Hermione Granger puts something off."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked crossly. "I don't always rush to do things…Stop it! Stop laughing! This was not supposed to be funny, you know."

"Hermione, that's probably the first time you've ever suggested we just not do something. This is an historic moment." Ron was grinning at her maddeningly.

Hermione did not reply, however, she simply looked feebly from Ron to the parchment without speaking. Ron cleared his throat as if to speak but then thought better of it. They sat in silence; each looking immensely interested in the pattern of the tablecloth.

Both Ron and Hermione expected the other to get up, say goodnight, and leave for bed. Neither of them budged. After the long silence, Hermione wordlessly left her seat. She bustled about the kitchen counter and returned to the table with two steaming mugs of tea. Ron muttered his gratitude as she placed his tea in his hands. Suddenly, Ron moved forward clearing all ink, quills, and parchment from the table.

Accepting this action as a cue to speak, Hermione fixed Ron with a careful stare. "Do you think we're proper best friends?"

Ron looked at her curiously then replied, "I…we…yes, I suppose we are."

"I mean, I feel as if it's impossible to be there for Harry. We can't stand at his side as we once did. We're so separate from him."

Ron paused, comprehension dawning on his face. "Oh…er…yes. Harry. I thought…well, never mind."

Hermione understood Ron's mistake instantly. It was just as valid a question.

"What did you think?" she said softly.

Ron looked her briefly in the eye before getting up to fix himself more tea at the counter. Facing the dusty, old pantry Ron mumbled, "I thought maybe you were asking about…about you and me."

Still facing away from her, Ron heard Hermione draw in breath. "I could have been. That is, if I didn't already know the answer."

Ron turned slowly to face Hermione and said uncertainly, "Oh. Alright."

"Ron, you are...we...You _are_ my best friend."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a smile. Hermione said, "You know, we really should write to Harry tonight. It would be useless to put it off another day."


End file.
